


Patch Me Up

by lil_Tasha



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Natasha Needs a Hug, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, The Author Regrets Nothing, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8443393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_Tasha/pseuds/lil_Tasha
Summary: It was a mission gone wrong that left Natasha with mulitple injuries, physical and emotional. She goes to a friend for help and they unintentionally reveal deeper wounds.





	

It had been a mission gone wrong that left her with two cracked ribs, a large gash on her forehead, and a bullet lodged in her left shoulder. Her bruised and bloodied body ached with every step and breath she took, but she was determined to reach her destination where she knew it’d be safe.

After trudging through the dark back alleys of New York for about half an hour, she finally arrived behind a certain apartment building. And mustering up the little amount of strength that remained within her body, she climbed the rusty metal ladder to a second story window. Her split knuckles left little blood streaks on the stained glass as she knocked a few times.

“ _ Please _ answer,” she whispered to herself.

A minute or two passed before a familiar face was staring back at her through the now dirty window. She managed a small smile before slumping against the rough brick building. The window then opened, revealing a young and extremely worried looking brunette.

“God, Natasha,” she said, her arm carefully slipping around the other woman’s waist. “What in the hell did you get yourself into this time?”

The redhead—Natasha—groaned a little in response as she attempted to stand and get herself through the small window. “That’s classified, Wanda,” she muttered.

Rolling her eyes, the brunette pulled Natasha into her dimly lit apartment before poking her head out the window and looking around outside. She then closed it and the blinds this time, turning around to face her friend afterwards who noticeably winced as she shifted to lean against the wall.

“Alright, Romanoff. Am I going to get an actual explanation as to why you came here knocking on my window at three in the morning or are we just going to have some awkward staring contest?”

“Why were you even awake?” Natasha retorted.

The other woman sighed in frustration. “That’s not the point, Natasha.”

“It was a mission gone wrong.”

“That’s a first,” Wanda muttered.

“Don’t be such a smartass, Maximoff.”

The brunette smirked before stepping forward and wrapping an arm around her friend’s waist to help guide her to the couch. “So, how did the infamous Black Widow get her ass beat?”

“She was outnumbered, one to fifteen, and didn’t even have her Widow’s Bite,” Natasha replied bitterly.

“What’s the damage?” Wanda then asked, setting the redhead down onto her couch.

Natasha grunted a little, her arm snaking around her abdomen. “Two cracked ribs, a large gash on my forehead, and a bullet lodged in my left shoulder,” she answered tersely.

Wanda kneeled in front of her to get a better look at the head wound. “Alright,” she said, standing back up. “I think you know the drill by now. You’ve been through this enough with me. I’ll be back with the first aid kit in a few minutes.” She walked out of the room, flipping the lightswitch on her way past it.

Getting her skintight catsuit off her shoulders seemed much harder than usual being there were cracked ribs and a bullet wound interfering. But Natasha eventually managed to pull it down and off her shoulders, though it was without her usual grace. With the wound still bleeding profusely, Natasha carefully pressed her hand to it, wincing slightly. She then closed her eyes, sat back, and waited.

A few minutes later, Wanda returned with the first aid kit in hand. She walked back over to Natasha, kneeling down in front of her again.

“It really isn’t as bad as it looks,” the redhead told her friend with a pained expression as she opened her eyes.

“You can drop the act, Natasha. You’re here with me and you’re safe. You know that I’m not going to judge you.” Opening her mouth to respond, Wanda cut her off. “Have I ever?”

Natasha shook her throbbing head slightly. “No, you haven’t. And you know that I’m very grateful because of it.”

Wanda’s brown eyes drifted to her friend’s abdomen. She noticed a large purple bruise forming on the pale skin that concealed the cracked ribs. “There isn’t much I’ll be able to do about that,” she told her. “I can give you some pain medication, but you’ll have to go to a hospital to have them taken care of properly.”

“Fine, fine,” Natasha murmured. “But you can fix the rest, right?” she then asked.

“Shouldn't be too hard being you’ve had worse. It’s just going to hurt.”

Natasha rolled her eyes before closing them. “Like I didn’t already know that.”

Wanda shook her head as she got to work. First, she focused on Natasha’s shoulder. Grabbing a pair of gloves, she put them on, and went for the tweezers. It only took a few minutes for her to find the bullet and remove it. She then cleaned the wound with antiseptic, stitched, and bandaged it. There was some cringing on Natasha’s end, otherwise, she remained still for the most part. The next injury to be tended to was the large gash on her forehead. But a quick clean with some antiseptic, a few stitches, and some steristrips took care of that.

“I can’t really do anything about your ribs,” Wanda reminded her. “The best I can do is wrap them for you until you receive proper treatment.”

“I guess that’ll have to do,” Natasha replied, opening her eyes again.

“It’s going to hurt,” the brunette warned, removing her gloves.

“Yeah? Well, what’s new?”

Wanda retrieved the wrap from the first aid kit and carefully began to pull the white fabric around Natasha’s pale, bruised skin. She heard a few Russian curses.

“I warned you.”

“Shut up,” Natasha snapped. “You’re so annoying.”

Smirking, Wanda replied, “And you love it.”

“You wish.”

Wanda tucked the fabric and pulled away. “I don’t have to,” she replied.

“Again, you’re a pain in my ass,” Natasha muttered as she sat up and pulled her catsuit back onto her arms.

Putting her hand on her friend’s good shoulder, Wanda questioned, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Getting out of your hair.”

“To go where and do what exactly?”

Natasha shrugged the brunette’s hand off her shoulder. “That’s none of your business, Maximoff,” she seethed.

“It actually is kind of my business.” Wanda paused and bit her lip. “I just want to make sure that wherever you decide to go, you’ll be safe. That’s all.”

“I don’t know.”

“Why did you come here?”

Natasha gave her friend a questioning look. “What do you me—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Romanoff,” Wanda interrupted. “You  _ know _ what I mean.”

“Because I’m always bothering Clint.” The deceit wasn’t unfamiliar on her tongue.

“You’ve come here the last three times you got hurt on a mission, Natasha. And they’ve all seemed to be within one month of each other.” Wanda was growing more skeptical with each passing moment. “Why are you going on so many missions? What are you hiding?”

Natasha sighed quietly. She was caught. “Two months ago, the first time I came here for your help, Clint had died out on that mission with me, and I couldn’t save him.”

Wanda was  _ not _ expecting that at all. “I’m so sorry, Natasha,” she whispered.

“I’ve been trying to distract myself with mission after mission, but every single thing seems to remind me of him.”

“Does SHIELD know?”

Natasha shook her head. “This was my last mission. It’s been almost four weeks and I still haven’t checked in with Fury yet, so, he’s probably going to have my head on a plate for that and for hiding Clint’s death from him for such a long time.”

“Trying to stay off the radar?”

“Yeah,” the redhead replied simply.

“Well, you’re welcome to crash here for as long as you need to.”

“Thanks, Wanda.”


End file.
